HR.AuraliasColors

NOTE: Until I get bored of the conceit, all reviews will be introduced like so with a clumsily worded Haiku Review.

Title: Auralia's Colors
Book: Novel (Fantasy)
Author: Jeffrey Overstreet
Year: 2007
Pages: 336

I had only heard good things about Jeffrey Overstreet's fantasy novel, Auralia's Colors. Which is, I'll state up front, not the best way to approach a text unbiased. I picked the book up expecting greatness and found only good-ness. I delved its innards hoping for something that would transcend its genre and discovered a novel mired in its genre.

Not that it's all bad. And neither is it at all bad. Auralia's Colors does though make generous use of what for lack of a better term can be called faults.

First the bad.

The novel, like most of its kind, labours heavily under the burden of its forefathers. The stereotyped tropes of the genre are a cruel taskmaster under whose fell thumb Auralia and her colours never threaten to emerge. The themes are tired and overworn and I felt like I was reading any number of the fantasy books I grew up with as a kid. Many of the characters are mere caricatures and you know from the first page of their introduction exactly who they will turn out to be (I had hoped while reading that he would be turning these stereotypes on the reader, playing with and then dashing expectations, but alas...). The prose is overheated, wrought over and again in the forge of Overstreet's imagination. (I read the first couple pages to The Monk while she prepared herself a lunch and her response: "Hm, I think he's trying to hard.")

Randall Munroe (of XKCD) recently posited a helpful rule of thumb regarding these types of novels:

Auralia and her colours do suffer on this point—though not as much as they might. While Overstreet is not quite as imaginative world-builder as Phillip Pullman and doesn't have the master's grasp on the language as does Tolkien, he does tell a well-paced story. This is something at which Pullman, for all his imagination, utterly fails. Overstreet's characters who are less like the cardboard standees that populated the Suncoast Videos of yesteryear are engaging enough and I really did want to find out what would happen in the end. The climax to this first book was satisfying enough that I went to the library to see if they had the first sequel Cybele's Midnight, but they didn't. And I'm not quite sold enough to actually purchase it.

As far as Fantasy goes, I'd put Overstreet far below Tolkien (but who isn't when it comes to fantasy), quite a stretch below Gaiman, a bit below Feist and Rowling, far above Pullman (though my butt is also far above Pullman), better than most of those Dungeons & Dragons books I read in juniour high, and probably on a par with McCaffrey and nearly on a level with Lewis (though in fair disclosure, I'm not the biggest fan of Lewis). Of course, this is his first novel and some authors have been known to hone their craft as they go.

Rating:

NOTE: While browsing Borders last week, I thought I'd check out the book's sequel, read the first chapter, and see if it was improvement enough to tempt my wallet (as I happened to have a spending allowance burning a book-sized hole in my pocket). I went to Sci-Fi/Fantasy and browsed down to the O section. Or more precisely, where there would have been an O section had there been any O authors. Apparently there are plenty of N fantasy authors and piles of Ps, but nary an O.

Still, I knew they had the book, so I meandered over to their handy self-service computer and located the mislaid volume. As it turned out, they had a bunch of copies. All in the wrong section. For some reason, the novels had been labeled (I'm guessing by the publisher) as "Christian Fiction." Man, way to stick to the ghetto. Sure, the book would probably find a ready audience (as Tycho might say, "a Captive audience), but the author's work will never be able to be appealed to a wider audience if it's shuffled into some dreary corner with a bunch of books that didn't deserve the cost of binding. Seriously, have you ever stopped to admired the tortured writing that passes under the banner of "Christian fiction."

I might not have been made a particular fan of Overstreet's trilogy (?), but I liked it alright. And I could see myself finishing the series if it didn't cost me anything but time. His work deserves better than the ghetto.

20080411

If pop-Christianity is marked by anything here in the late-Aughts, it's the theme of Culture War. We hear it time and again that there is a culture war raging between, what, liberal America (?) and Christianity. Battle lines, we are told, have been drawn between the sides of such issues as abortion, gay marriage, feminism, et and cetera. And as is common in times of war, we hear charismatic speeches, rallying cries, and soul-soothing lilt of propagandists in their variety of shapes and forms.

There is a war at hand. Or at least, so some would have you believe.

No, the truth is, there is no war. And there never was. At least not between Christianity and American society. That war of culture is one built of myth and fancy and, like we should come to expect, is more a product of the politics of niche cultures than anything so real as an actual war.

Let me interject here that clashes between cultures are frequent. When Jazz came on the scene, the grumpy old whiteys didn't take to it and branded it an evil, sordid thing. When rock 'n roll came on the scene, the grumpy old whiteys didn't take to it and branded it an evil, sordid thing. When punk came on the scene, the grumpy old whiteys didn't take to it and branded it an evil, sordid thing. Et and cetera.

Let me further interject that the church is alien and the foreignness of its culture is indelible. Christianity cannot be changed or understood by the world in which it presently sits. It is, in fact, so entirely other that there can be no nurturing of the church on the food of the world and no nurturing of the world on the food of the church.

And yet, despite the fact that there are indeed battles between cultures and the fact that Christianity is fundamentally at odds with the world around, there is no culture war involving Christianity.

One more interjection. I think it safe to say that the sub-cultures that Christians involve themselves in may indeed be at war with various other cultures or sub-cultures. Those who find themselves deeply embedded in the culture of Chuck Colson may indeed find themselves at war with the cultural ideologies forwarded by the Democratic Party. Those who find themselves swallowed up in the culture of Evangelical Christianity might find themselves at war with those of the culture of social liberalism. Those who cherish their culture of moral integrity might find themselves taking arms against those who forward the agendas of Hollywood. Et and cetera. There's just one thing...

None of that has to do with Christianity.

The church is not interested in affecting culture; it has better things to do. There is no war between Christianity and the culture of the world in which it sits as an outsider. Even should the culture outside of the church choose to war on the church, there is no cultural war for the Christian to engage. Why? Because wars are about ground gained and lost, the destruction of enemies. Christianity is an all or nothing venture. A person is not an almost Christian or mostly redeemed. A person is of this world and its culture or of the next world and its culture. And Christianity isn't about the destruction of the enemy because all Christians know that such a resounding and climactic defeat as that has nothing to do with us but is wholly a victory earned and sealed by the Son of God himself.

Let's put it this way. If John and Mark are not only unable to marry but are shunned by society for expressing their carnal desire for each other, is the cause of Christ forwarded? Nope. If those who would dare to abort a child are imprisoned and perhaps even sentenced to execution, is the promise of the Gospel ennobled? Not really. If prayer is in schools, God in the Pledge, profanity out of Hollywood, morality in rap music, and justice in the courts, then is Christianity on the rise? Nuh-uh.

This cultural stuff has nothing to do with Christianity. Though Christians are at liberty to engage in any number of hobbies (culture wars being little more than a hobby), such individuals should not make the mistake of thinking their interest in such things is "Christian" or that their involvement in "making the world a better place" forwards the cause of Christ.

While culture wars may exist, they have nothing to do with Christianity and anyone who sells you on the idea of a culture war between the church and the world is, well, selling you something. And you should always beware of those who try to sell you something without telling you that they are actually selling. Those people are sneaks and liars, whatever their cause.

20071019

Out of a mild and spontaneous curiosity, I wanted to see if Christianity Today had anything to say about Blankets or Fun Home, two recent and celebrated (and even banned!) graphic novels - as the first deals explicitly with evangelicalism and the second treats frankly lesbianism. Both novels are autobiographical and deserve interest. CT had nothing to say about Fun home and while there was evidence of an article on Blankets, the site is a mess and the link to the article is broken.

Instead, I found "Don't Mess with My Genre," a review of Who Needs a Hero? which seems to be a "Christian" examination of comic books. The reviewer, Edirin Ibru, is a self-professed comic book "know-it-all." He takes the author of Who Needs a Hero? to task for not keeping up with the times and imagining that comics are all about the bright and shining heroes that have recently populated the big screen. Ibru points out the grim-n-gritty era of comics begun in the mid-'80s through the influence of books like Frank Miller's The Dark Knight Returns and Alan Moore's Watchmen (coming soon to a theater near you) and chastises the author of Who Needs a Hero? for entirely ignoring the evolution of comics from its more colourful, heroic expressions of the past.

The irony is that is that Ibru himself could be chastised for a shortsighted view of the history and evolution of a medium in which he claims expertise. None of the examples he cites in order to prove that Who Needs a Hero? misses the boat are more recent than fifteen years ago. He expresses concern that a method of storytelling that peaked in 1992 is not properly represented, neglecting the wealth of development that has since occurred.

Granted, there is a small segment of the industry that is still influenced by Miller and Moore, but what about all the more worthwhile developments in the medium? Ibru bemoans the association of comics with children's entertainment and the best he can do is cited teenager's entertainment as an example of why comics are not kid's stuff. Sin City? The Punisher? Spawn? This is the stuff that solidifies the childish reputation of comics.

Granted, he does make mention of V for Vendetta, which is a mature and interesting story that doesn't cater to the adolescent mind.

But where is the interesting stuff? The autobiographical works like Blankets, Persepolis (coming soon to a theater near you), and Fun Home? Documentary works like Palestine, Safe Area: Gorazde, and Doing Time? Crime stories like Stray Bullets, Bendis' Alias and Death Note? Dramas like Jar of Fools and Jimmy Corrigan? Comedies like Scott Pilgrim, Yotsuba&! and Blue Monday? Fantasy like Sandman, Bone and Fables? Speculative fiction like Y: The Last Man (coming soon to a theater near you)? Historical fiction like Berlin and Usagi Yojimbo? Horror? Westerns? Romance? Sports? Politics?

Whatever genre you like, there's bound to be something to interest you. Ibru complains that the author of the reviewed book is doing damage to the medium* by focusing on a single, antique aspect unique to a bygone era. Amusingly, Ibru accomplishes much the same in his pantomime of righteous indignation. By focusing only on the baby step in the evolution from childish superhero fiction to adolescent superhero fiction, he promotes that the medium is still about adolescent power fantasies.

*sigh* And I wonder why people like Tom still don't have any interest in giving graphic novels a chance.

*note: Ibru uses the term "genre" when he means medium. Comic is not a genre but a medium. Comics are analogous to books, music, and film rather than to romance, action, sci-fi, blues, reggae, or pop.

20070927

Or Christ in Pop Culture. Or something like that.

Rich Clark of DYL and one of, what I presume to be one of his seminary cohorts, have begun regularly producing a podcast relating their Christian viewpoints to various expressions of pop culture. Spider-Man. Jason Bourne. Adult-oriented cartoons with crude humour. Three tens. And yumas. And some such. I think they talked about tv once too.

In any case, they talk about stuff like how films either reflect or refract a Christian worldview. They talk about how tv is either dooming or saving America. They talk about cowboy bravery (not as cool as cowboy bebop), how Jesus is the true template for action heroes, how the Wii is going to replace the church as the community of the faithful, how adult cartoons started with the Simpsons and are bad, how Benjamin Martin from The Patriot wasn't blood-thirsty and vengeful like you thought he was, but really just a freedom-loving patriot. Well, or something like that. I don't really listen to what they yammer on and on about.

Okay, that's not true.

I actually do listen. The format is easy-going and conversational. Less like a produced show and more like two guys sitting around talking about junk and what they think of it in relation to their faith. They'll chat about something, throw in a Top 5 list and start it all off with an ever-changing title shtick, like "Christ and Pop Culture: where the Christian faith meets Naruto and Nine-Tailed Fox" or "Christ and Pop Culture: where the Christian faith meets Don't f&¥!% with Jesus." And it's gotten at least eight times better since they dropped the prohibitive ninety-minute runtime down to a far more accessible twenty minutes. Less yap and more flap, as they say.

<nobody says that>

What?

<nobody says 'less yap and more flap'>

What? Of course they do!

<what does that even mean anyway? 'less yap and more flap.' what kind of imbecile are you anywa--> BANG!!

In any case, if you're interested in an evangelical take on pop culture (or even just pop culture itself) or if you find either Rich Clark or David Dunham (said cohort) to be attractive and hope learn enough about them to steal them away from their wives and families and pets and obligations, you may find the show interesting. Anyone with any sense of the history of this site know that Rich and I see things pretty differently in the realm of pop culture, entertainment, artistic expression, what-have-you. And that's partly why I listen. He likes to see Christian themes in stuff and point out boy-wizards as Christ-figures, whereas I just like to enjoy well-crafted entertainments without hunting for a spiritual flavour that I'm skeptical exists. I like to think of his version of things as silly and mine as erudite, but come on. I'm the guy who thinks Fantasy Football is nerdy. How can you even begin to take a guy like me at his word?

So yeah. Guys talking about stuff. And sometimes arguing with me. At Christ and Pop Culture Lips of Sin.

20070906

One of the benefits of ministry work are the comedic elements that slip in through the day. Because y'know. Just because two people share the same faith, doesn't mean they are on remotely the same wavelength.

Our receptionist-in-chief received a music CD recently from our Lord and Saviour, ostensibly. Need proof?

And yet, despite the overwhelming joy some of us might experience at the divine revelation of the music of heaven, others of us are suspicious of both heart and mind. Skeptics in sheep's clothing if you will. No, there were certain details that immediately leapt to mind and prompted us to think that this might not necessarily be the work of theophany or miracle, but of something far more mundane: a very human person of poor taste and spelling.

In the first place, it is virtually certain that the creator of all that is would know how to spell the receptionist's name correctly. So either the deliverer of this by-appearance didn't actually know her name, or perhaps Crysti doesn't know how to spell her own name. I'm open to either explanation at this point. So in the second place, the creative soul of the world would likely have better taste; the included music is the definition of schmaltz. And lastly, it is doubtful that a good and holy and just God would feel the need to pirate music in order that our receptionist might bask in the warmth of RIAA-thwarting pabulum masquerading as musical substance.

UPDATE: as it has been unveiled (as it was meant to be unveiled!), the disc was not the gift of the Messiah at all but instead the product of a really nice guy who is a touch over-eager in the realm of spiritual matters and for some reason really wants the receptionist to listen to Track #11. I suspect backwards masking. In any case, I'm troubled that she is the sole bearer of his gifting affections - as I believe myself to be at least as handsome as she.

'Til All Success Be Nobleness

Somebody named Craig is preparing to write about American politics and twenty- to thirty-somethings in the PCA. He asked some questions and I offered my perspective. I was gonna post it here on the 4th of July, but I was busy sleeping off a game night from the slightly less illustrious holiday, the 3rd of July. Anyway, here are his questions and my responses.

I wonder what you all think about the American body politic in general, and to what degree do you (and friends you know) involve yourself (mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually) in its goings-on? My goal is to use this week for research into how twenty- and thirty-something PCA-types (and others) think politically so as to formulate questions to go deeper in understanding and representing your perspectives.

I'll be 34 in three weeks. In my twenties (especially late twenties) I was far more politically interested than I am now. I saw a horrifying number of things wrong with both of the two big parties and began looking into lesser party politics in my idealism. This sometimes alienated me from fellow members in several bodies. Over the years, my confidence that political involvement of the citizenry matters in any meaningful way has waned to the point where I may talk politics with friends, but I find it hard to care about elections (as every result seems to fall under the heading: More of the Same). And it doesn't help that there aren't really any news sources that aren't agenda-driven, from which one can garner "pure" news. If one had no job or responsibilities, I can see how they might be able to sift through everything out there and have an inkling of an idea what is going on, but I don't see how the average player can possible responsibly vote with any sense of honesty within his conscience.

What I'd like to see from the PCA is an active distancing in the leadership (and following their example, the membership) from several ideas implicit to much of conservative American Christendom:

• that American international interests coincide to large degree with the church's extranational interests
• that Republican interests are church interests
• that political involvement is our Christian duty
• that a worldly political/economic system (e.g., capitalism) is somehow Christian or uniquely compatible with Christianity
• that democracy and/or the "spread of democracy" is somehow Christian or uniquely compatible with Christianity
• that America is now or ever was a "Christian nation"
• that the church's involvement in the civil realm is a good (read: righteous) thing.

From my vantage point, when one looks at Christian involvement in the political realm, it looks as if the bride of Christ is in bed with the world. I think it's embarrassing that people can presume the political party I would support simply by looking at the denomination from which I come. I know PCA members-in-good-standing who are Democrats and I know one who considers himself an anarcho-socialist—whatever that is ;P and they fairly consistently feel alienated by the believers around them. Occasionally from the pulpit but more often from offhand comments made by fellow members and officers. Most of us keep our political thoughts a quiet secret for fear of unhappy and inappropriate reactions (I was once accused of being a nihilist simply because I couldn't find it in my heart to vote for Bush).

And really, how healthy is it for some church members to live in fear of other church members for something as trivial as a political perspective?

Do you remember a time when you didn’t feel disenfranchised by or cynical regarding our current democratic political system/process? What was different? What changed in your political understanding and when? Who influenced you the most in the midst of this transition and how?

The last time I didn't feel cynical toward the American politic and disenfranchised by the church in regard to the political realm (for the two unfortunately go hand-in-hand) was as I was leaving high school. Up until that point, I bought into the system and the primacy of the Religious Right. As I entered the workplace, the change began to come on gradually. I was no longer merely feeding off what I was told but absorbing information (in large quantities) on my own.

At first my cynicism was directed toward the Republican Party, as I saw that it very little resembled my Christian beliefs and in many ways was stood antithetical to the Christianity I saw represented in Scripture. I felt betrayed by those in the church from whom I learned that the Republican way coincided with the Christian way, but I still held hope for political good. For a few years anyway. I dabbled in supporting a variety of forms of socially conscious libertarianism (or classical liberalism) and voted in ways appropriate to my newfound political hope.

By the end of my twenties, however, political interests had nearly entirely lost their sheen for me. I recognized that political movements were powerful in what they could accomplish but I did not see myself in any movement that was actually accomplishing anything. I also saw a degree of unhealthy mania in those who looked to political solutions for their hope in this world. Otherwise stable people would become apoplectic at the merest mention of the opposition party's candidate. It seemed like madness to me.

And madness with precious little fruit to show for it. For every good that a movement accomplished, it also ushered in ill. For every tyrant's regime that was crushed tens or hundreds of thousands of civilians lay dead for the sake of another man's democracy. For every trade success, some got richer while others suffered (the poor in one country or the poor in another).

There are too many questions that have no pat or adequate answers. Illegal immigration hurts the livelihoods of the poor in our nation, but the prevention of it hurts those in other nations. How can I be asked to decide an issue that I cannot understand? How is it responsible for me to judge these things if I don't have adequate information with which to render judgment? I work full-time, have a wife with whom I spend time, spend myself on a variety of projects in the evenings, and minister to my local congregation. I am a responsible member of my community - which shows by the fact that I don't have the time to research these political questions (and moreso by the fact that I do not vote for that which I have not adequately researched).

That the church (sometimes officially, most times unofficially) expected to dictate to me the answer to all these abstract questions of political theory angered me. It discouraged me that those who were meant to show me the heavenly kingdom were trying to get me to help them take over the earthly. I see no impetus for that in Scripture (though I see plenty of it in church history).

So to quickly answer the first question: The difference between when I wasn't cynical and now is simply that I was naive then and am less so now.

As for who influenced this change in me? I don't think I can attribute it to anything greater than the fact that I was studying everyday. Both Scripture and secular concerns. As my comprehension of the biblical record grew, I noted the it fit less and less the life and system to which I had accustomed myself. Rather than change what Scripture meant by ignoring it, I allowed Scripture to change me. I am, quite obviously, not wholly a work of Scripture and the work of Christ in me, but I am enough changed that I could not accept my beliefs as they were.

Peddling Pescados?

Valerie the Curious quotes a curious piece by someone she calls Debbie Maken:

Women by their very nature and design instinctively know that they are made for the man. During the Reformation, there was a strain of thought that suggested that women could never have been called to remain single because they were "made for the man," (I. Cor. 11:9) and because all five characters in the Bible with lifelong celibacy produced singleness were all male. There is a loneliness, a floundering, an unexpressed longing to be whole, that is more acutely felt by women than men remaining single. Single women experience purposelessness....

Now every time I hear someone describing The Way It Is and they open with something along the lines of "by their very design and purpose," I start to get a little nervous. Certainly, there are appropriate appropriations of this kind of argument (e.g., people, by their very design, are meant to process oxygen), but those are rarely the kinds we see enter into this sort of discussion—a discussion of what women are like or what men are like. I'm not saying that every reference to design in reference to the sexes is offbase or inappropriate, but it's a pretty big warning sign that there's a rusty ol' hook in that shiny lure we're about to snap into our jaws.

And Maken doesn't disappoint.

It may be a presumption (as she doesn't state explicitly), but she seems to lean pretty heavily on a "strain of thought" from the Reformation era that seems less to do with anything actually thought out and more to do with whimsy and prejudgment. The idea that women cannot fulfill their purpose by remaining single is interesting and may bear scrutiny; but to ground a positive appraisal of the theory on gaunt evidences such as mentioned here is eyebrow-raising for sure. To say that women cannot be fulfilled in their singleness because they were "made for man" is as silly as implying that a man cannot be fulfilled in his singleness because God saw that he needed a helper and created woman to fulfill his need. If anything, the passages demonstrate that men have a greater need for women than women have for men.

And as if the author realized how much weaker the second proof is, but felt that any decent argument needs at least two evidence, she includes (trailing in arrears, as if ashamed to even be present, knowing full-well of its inadequacies) the sad, sad note that "all five characters in the Bible with lifelong celibacy-produced singleness were all male." Now let's ignore the fact that the purpose of the biblical narrative is nowhere to point out all the proper and acceptable life-paths for men and women... No nevermind. Let's not ignore that. Let's also not ignore that fact that women so rarely figure into the purpose of biblical narrative that a large majority of the time, their raison d'etre in the story is wholly (or maybe just primarily) due to their reproductive mechanic.

Let's also not ignore the fact that there are women in Scripture who have little problem fulfilling their Scriptural purpose apart from any marital interest. Deborah held a pivotal role in one aspect of the narrative and we know nothing about her marital state. Obviously, Scripture wasn't all that concerned with it.

If anything, the fact that five men in scripture led lifelong lives of good celibacy proves that women can as well (seeing as how men seem to need women as much or more than women need men, biblically speaking anyway).

Then in a classic statement of self-prioritization Maken states what she could not possibly know: "There is a loneliness, a floundering, an unexpressed longing to be whole, that is more acutely felt by women than men remaining single." While I'm sure all the single men who are pained by their bachelor state are ecstatic to be so duly dismissed by someone who could not possibly be an authority on their emotional state, I can happily report to men and women everywhere that Maken is makin' things up to suit her woeful purpose.

Then, surprisingly, Maken actually says something true: "Single women experience purposelessness." I cannot argue with this. I might however add a number of other equally true statements. Statements like Single men experience purposelessness or Married couples experience purposelessness. Or even less exclusive: People experience purposelessness. One might even be inclined to make equally true statements like Single women experience purpose or People experience purpose. All of these are true. People, both men and women, whatever their states, experience a range of things and among those things are either purpose or a lack of purpose or sometimes both simultaneously—which leads to the most common of human experiences: conflict.

Maken's real problem becomes here evident. She wants the pained single woman so badly to be special that she creates an exclusive club, an elite pity party that rivals the Mason's for the secrets it guards—secrets like dissatisfaction with life circumstances, a type of handshake that no other club can ever bear.

In the end, Valerie summarizes: "A woman without a man isn't like a fish without a bicycle; she's like a man without a job." To which I say, I would be stoked to be able to live without a job. I can't begin to tell you the number of things that a job keeps me from accomplishing. I think a better pithy saying (or at least more accurate, if not particularly pithy) would be: "A woman without a man is like a man without a woman; or even more likely, like a woman without a man."

Like Jesus camp, but... different.

In other news, after yesterday's funeral, i've decided that the whole dying thing is over-rated and that people shouldn't do it anymore.

Things I Don't Like, Vol. I

It being Easter week, I was looking back over an old post from a few years back when me and Brandon went with the whole office down to Irvine Meadows Verizon Amphitheater for "Easter in the Amphi Meadows." One of the featured singers (this guy named Santos), belted out an old, familiar tune, "Were You There"

Hm, I should restate: An old, unfortunately familiar tune.

Seriously, I'm trying to think of a worse Easter song and I'm stuck. I'm certain there's worse out there (after all, people like the Black Eyed Peas so it stands to reason that such a dearth of taste would probably transfer over to the population of the redeemed), but nothing worse comes to mind.

"Were You There" is perfectly indicative of that contentless, sentimental pap that developed out of the 19th century church. The song says nothing as it rumbles and trudges along. Were you there when they crucified my Lord? Nope, you? Nah, me neither. Huh. I guess it stands to reason. Were you there when they nailed him to a tree? Can't say that I was, you? No, I didn't think so. Was that a weird question? Were you there when they laid him in the ground? I'm only 33. Sometimes it causes me to tremble. That you weren't there? Tremble. Like you're mad? Or you just got the morning shivers? Tremble. Huh, alright. If you say so.

Ugh. Another reason why I prefer Halloween to Easter. No dumb songs. Well, except for the How to Spell Halloween song. But at least that one's kind of jaunty.

At Least I'm Still Smiling

We at Nowheresville, USA have a long and storied history of poking good-natured jabs at local churches who misuse their advertising dollar by sending out goofy flyers in the mail. Sometimes the problem is inappropriate stock photography that conveys a message slightly other than that which you would expect from a church. That isn't some kooky-but-way-fun cult. Other times, you have instances like today's, a church who probably used photos of real members (most of them don't look manicured enough to be stock art) but just couldn't get it together in editorial. The copy here reads: "What are these people smiling about?" The back side says "Because they are going to celebrate Easter at Mountain View Church!" Examine the flyer below and discover the disconnect between copy and visual.

Wincing at What?

A typical response one may hear (and by this, I mean I do hear) to the concept of attending a film that contains less wholesome aspects is that one shouldn't take enjoyment from evil. This kind of expression might be found in conversation like:

"So, The Dane, what's your favourite movie of all time?"

"Well, it's pretty much a toss up between Snow Falling on Cedars and Fight Club - with Seven Samurai trailing in a close third."

"Oh really? They're that good, huh? Maybe I'll have to check them out. What are they rated?"

"Hm. Well, both Fight Club and Snow Falling on Cedars are rated R. And Seven Samurai predates the MPAA and is Japanese, so it's not rated."

"Hm. Rated R, huh? For what?"

"Well, Fight Club is pretty violent and there's quite a bit of foul language, and..."

"What about the sex? Nudity?"

"Well, Fight Club has a pretty surreal sex scene and nudity. And Snow Falling on Cedars doesn't have any nudity but there's a pretty steamy love scene in there. I wouldn't want to watch it with my mom*, if you know what I mean."

"And those are your favourites? I don't know, I just don't think that we should be entertained by sin."

And yes, I have actually had some form of that conversation many several times with many several people. And it always baffles me. I never understand it.See, the thing of it is this:

One doesn't have to approve of every motive, action, or event in a film to find it worthwhile anymore than one has to approve of every motive, action, or event in the Bible to find it worthwhile.

It is not a just criticism to declare that I find the reading of Scripture repugnant because it contains salacious passages like Ezekiel 16:25 ("At the head of every street you built your lofty place and made your beauty an abomination, spreading your legs to any passerby and multiplying your whoring"). It would be like asking in astonishment after someone proclaims that they love the Word of God: "What?! You love whoring?"

Simply put, the presence of sin in something one enjoys does not mean that it is the sin that one enjoys.

Another old stand-by is the admonition: "I just think that we should dwell on whatever is true and noble and just and lovely and of good report."

Again, if this is to be used as broadly as one might use it, we rule out the reading of Scripture, for Scripture is filled, stem to stern, with all manner of things that are neither true nor just nor lovely nor of good report. And yet, we declare the Bible good - even as it declares itself to be good.

The crux, then, is not in the presence of fouls thing in the make-up of the which we find worthwhile. It is elsewhere. It is, perhaps, in the reading of the thing. In the individual's reaction to the thing. As an adult, I could watch Schindler's List and be properly overwhelmed by the horror and folly of mankind. As a seventh grader, I most certainly would have been thinking: Bοοbs!

The fact of the matter is that in either Fight Club or Snow Falling on Cedars, there are parts and pieces that - if one were to cull out and focus all of one's attentions and enjoyment upon - would be considered unhealthy. That is why we rate these movies with an R rating. It is our way of saying not that the movies are bad, but that we are warning off those with immature sensibilities. It is our way of saying: "Look. This movies contains material that you, as the childish (in mind or faith or motive), will not be able to properly appreciate. Come back when you're older."

And really, if you're an adult, processing things in an immature fashion, please hope for better for yourself. If you walk into a movie like 300 or Black Snake Moan or Cinema Paradiso and you are titillated as my seventh-grade self would have been, that is really just sad. I'm not saying that you should go out and subject yourself to a deluge of stuff that you have a certain weakness for; I am saying that you do have a weakness and should seriously consider why you have this weakness and how to overcome it.

*note: Yes. I did indeed watch Snow Falling on Cedars with my mom. But it wasn't as uncomfortable as you might think. At least not for me.

The Mole vs. the Gay Baby

Yesterday, Tom posted a link to an article on Al Mohler's recent comments regarding homosexuality and genetics. The day before, I was browsing through comments on the subject by Metafilter's muddle-headed user base (it was great cause for mirth, reading their descriptions of what Al was saying and why he was a hypocrite). Amusing stuff, really.

I'm always fascinated by the things that will anger people. Mohler's stance here is surprisingly rational (I'm not a big Mohler booster and find some of his thoughts to be pretty thoughtless) - and it just happens that this is the one that gets under the broadest range of skins.

Now, some points:

A) The believer should have no more trouble accepting the possibility that homosexual proclivity may in fact be sometimes related to genetic disposition. Just like alcoholism, anger, and total depravity. It kinda puts homosexuality in well-tread territory.

B) Even granting the popular-yet-asinine definition of homophobia, the desire to solve what amounts to a genetic difficulty doesn't betray any more necessary a hatred of the homosexual than a desire to solve cerebral palsy in the infant necessitates a hatred of the handicapped. Homosexual society has been lobbying for several decades now for the widespread acceptance of homosexual orientation as a genetic condition rather than a learned (and therefore, deprogrammable) condition. They should have more carefully considered the implications of their quest.

C) Some of the rhetoric bouncing around is ingeniously silly. E.g.:

What bothers me is the hypocrisy. In one breath, they say the sanctity of an unborn life is unconditional, and in the next breath, it's OK to perform medical treatments on them because of their own moral convictions, not because there's anything wrong with the child.

That this could be contrary to the idea of the sanctity of unborn life is laughable. And that the messenger is hypocratic more so. I presume the speaker wouldn't oppose a medical intervention to solve cerebral palsy (even though there's nothing wrong with the handicapped). We, as a people, just prefer that other people be run under optimum conditions. So we try to fix their inadequacies. Give that child some Ritalin so he'll be "better"! Use occupational therapy with that child so that his motor skills are "better." Abstain from antibiotics during your pregnancy so your child will be "better."

We make values judgments all the time. This is just another one. The only difference is that this one threatens to strip people of their raison d'etre. Whatever.